Line of Trust
by AA Battery
Summary: A RobinMuch friendship fic. Set before the series basically in the Holy Land. Much and Robin as their relationship forms lots of angst, and Holy Land obviously
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I secretly write for the show- so i do own it! (joke)

A few notes you should read:  
1. umm- i have no idea what the actual terms for servants were in 1193- but in this fic, it's kinda like the indentured servants of the 17th-18th centuries- which basically involves one person signing a contract agreeing to serve another people for a certain number of years. In this fic, it's really only mentioned here in the first chapter- but I just wanted to let you know what was going on. So you could sign over your kids for money --that kinda deal. Sorry if this isn't historically acurate- but hey! LJ wears jeans! And i needed a good way for some much-angst...

2. this is set approx 5-6 years before the show...  
3. I am attempting to write two fics at once so forgive me if updates are a bit longer in coming than they were for Injured

**Line of Trust**

**Chapter 1**

Wham.

As the fist connected harshly with the side of his face, Much had enough instinct to grasp the cup he was holding harder so it wouldn't fall and break- that would only lead to more bruises. He successfully kept hold of the cup and paused for a moment to see if his master would follow the first punch with a second. After a few tense seconds passed and no fist or mocking laughter followed the first fist, he risked a glance up to find his master idly reading some scrap of paper. Sucking in a breath and trying to ignore the blood he could now taste in this mouth, he placed the glass down at the edge of the table and tried to fade into the shadows of the room without attracting any more attention. Besides the lashes the night before- which didn't really count since he still had his shirt on and there were only ten of them- he hadn't been beaten in nearly a week. That had to be some kind of record and he wasn't keen on breaking it.

Luck was on his side as he silently moved into the corner without his master saying anything. He closed his eyes as he swallowed the blood that had filled his mouth, hating being inside. At least when he was outdoors he could spit it out. He opened them again to half-focus on his master in case the man waved him over. The man was revolting, at least to all the servants of the keep. Much supposed that to anyone else he would seem normal enough, handsome maybe. His master had dirty blond hair that he kept long and was constantly pushing it away from his face. Of course, now that he entered his 40s, blond was mixed with white and to the glee of all the servants, he had begun to bald. When servants dared to make fun of the master, that's what they made fun of. Unfortunately, there really wasn't anything else to mock. The man might look a little fat, but all working in the keep knew that it wasn't fat but muscle. Muscle was nothing to joke about when everyone had felt it harming them in some way or another. Other than that, Master James was a perfect noble. He rode horses, went hunting, hung thieves and came home to beat his servants. A perfectly, normal noble.

Much hated him. Much, who had the unfortunate job of being the pig's manservant, despised his master more than anything in the world. He hated serving the man, hated seeing him, hated everything about him. But, after 10 years of serving and hating his master, he never really noticed this hate anymore. It wasn't a white hot rage that made him dream of killing the man in his sleep- Much didn't have enough energy for that. It was merely a dull, hopeless hate that lingered throughout Much's body and rarely made its presence known. Much had more important things to worry about- trying to keep from being whipped, attempting to sneak bits of food when he was able and usually struggling to keep his current wounds from getting infected. He didn't have time for hate- he was usually too busy with fear.

Much couldn't remember a time in his life when fear wasn't involved. In a distant way he remembered his family signing him off when he was younger to some master or other. He knew that they had been poor and that was about it. His first memories were simply painful ones of starving or embarrassment or being hurt. They blended with his current memories for the most part – except perhaps for the embarrassment. He was too used to being a servant to be embarrassed. His second master had sold his contract to another, who enjoyed little boys quite a bit. Much's mind automatically shied away from those memories and was briefly thankful for one thing in his life- that master had given the contract to a close friend after just a year. That close friend was his current master and life hadn't changed much.

He shifted slightly as his stomach rumbled painfully and the taste of blood in his mouth mingled with the taste of saliva as his mouth watered for no reason. Pain was obviously a bad thing- but in his mind, hunger was worse. He hated the deep feeling in your stomach that started out as only uncomfortable and then continued into a deep, never ending pain in your gut. He hated the weakness that it eventually caused, the numb feeling that would take hold of your body and force your brain to think too slowly. He hated the dizziness and black-outs that followed- put simply, he hated hunger. And then there was nothing, nothing better than eating- feeling the food slid down your throat and the almost instant energy it supplied, stopping the headache and ending the numbness. Eating was, as far as Much was concerned, the best thing a person could hope for. His whole day was a good day if he could at least grab a few bites at some point. He was happy to see that his master wasn't currently eating much and that his plate was still full. If he didn't call down for a kitchen boy to take it, then Much could easily-

"Much," the deep voice coming from the desk stopped any visions the servant was having of food. Automatically, Much walked over to his master's side and bowed slightly.

"Master?" he asked.

"A friend of mine," his master started. "Well more a friend of a friend is heading off to fight in the Holy Land." Much said nothing, confused. His master never told him anything about nobles or friends or anything, really- he didn't know why he was now.

"I signed over your contract to him," his master said, taking a sip of his drink. Much struggled as to what to do with this information, surely he had a say in this somehow- now that he was old enough to know what that meant. Much didn't know how long his parents signed him over for- but he once had the thought that it was only 20 years, that when he was around 23 or something, he would be free to go. But, he had heard servants say that whenever a contract changed ownership, more years got tagged on to the end. Still wrapping his mind around this information, Much forced himself to focus on the words his master was currently saying.

"You can fight well enough," Much could fight- it was another random thing James had decided he should know. So he had been taught- if taught was the right word. More like he was handed and sword and shield and told to defend himself. Personally, Much thought it was simply an excuse to beat him with a sword rather than just a whip. But ten years of desperately trying not to get hit did give you some skill- he had even beaten his master at times (though that of course simply lead to another beating). "You can ride a horse," Much could do that too- it was a necessity for when he was to serve his master on hunts. "I figured you'd be good enough- you leave tomorrow."

"T-tomorrow, master?" Much asked, astounded. His master stopped gazing into his cup and looked up to glare at the servant.

"I sent the letter to this man 2 weeks ago; it should be there by now- go pack." Much didn't move, he simply stood there, amazed at how quickly his life was changing. He realized suddenly he didn't want to leave- oh sure he hated it here, but at least it was familiar, at least he knew what to expect. He knew the cooks and could beg for food, he knew his master's habits enough that he wasn't constantly screwing up, he knew a few other servants who would sneak him food or water if they could. Now he was being shipped off to another, probably even crueler master and dragged to a war where he would probably get killed.

"Yes, master," he answered, trying not to let the dismay enter his voice. He turned and started to walk away when once again his master stopped him.

"Guards will take you to Locksley in the morning."

Much bowed again and murmured some kind of reply before continuing. He furiously told himself he shouldn't be so disappointed. He should've known that if his life could get any worse- it would. Walking down the hall, Much rolled his eyes at his master's use of the word "pack" there was nothing to pack besides a few clothes. He arrived at his small cell-like room and threw his meager clothes into a sack. He hesitated before taking the sword he usually fought with as well- his master probably wouldn't miss it. Then he glanced around his room and decided to at least go see if there was food to be had in the kitchens.

Never once did hope start to form in the servant's chest. The thought never crossed his mind that maybe his new master would be different, that maybe his life would be better. Much knew the truth- all the nobles were cruel, spoiled people. Life wasn't going to change- it was going to be exactly the same as it had for the past 19 years. There was no reason to hope- no reason at all.

* * *

Wham! 

Robin grinned as the arrow he shot hit dead center of the target. Chuckling to himself he headed over and pulled the bit of wood out. There was no doubt that practicing his bow and arrow was probably his favorite thing to do. He knew that it wasn't a common weapon for a noble- most considered it a peasant's weapon, something for the infantry to have. Not for a noble, who was supposed to gloriously ride into battle, sword glinting in the sun. Nobles didn't stay back and shoot people from a safe distance- his father had been upset when he expressed interest in the weapon. But after the man had died, no one had stopped Robin from practicing openly- a few guards had even given him basic lessons on how to use it. He had picked it all up extraordinarily fast. There was something about the bow that he just seemed to already know and he loved the challenge of it. He loved that the wind was never quite the same as it was the day before, or the slight difference the fletching could make on a shot. Each shot was different, each shot was wonderful.

As he was heading back to where he was currently shooting from, he saw Thornton head out to meet him. He smiled and waved to the old man, who had been a loyal servant since before he was born and had basically taken over as his father when his own father died years ago.

"Master Robin!" Thornton called as Robin swung back around to fire again. Robin took the shot, nodded as it hit the center again and turned to greet his manservant.

"Yes, Thornton," he asked, sweetly. His smile slowly faded a bit as he sensed Thornton wasn't quite in the joking mood.

"Well, master, I have a slight confession." Robin frowned- Thornton had never had a "confession" before. He nodded slightly- indicating the older man to go on.

"You see, a few weeks ago- I sent out a few requests for a new manservant for you," Thornton said, looking down.

"You're quitting!" Robin exclaimed, dropping the second arrow he had taken out to fire. "I don't understand- why would you quit? I thought you liked it here and well-"

"No!" Thornton cut in. "No, Master- I'm not quitting."

"Then why do I need a new servant?" Robin said, still glaring suspiciously at the man before him.

"Well, I can't go with you to the Holy Land, can I?" Thornton declared, smiling and gesturing down at himself. Robin's frown deepened- he had never really considered this before. Looking at Thornton, he realized the man was right. His servant was too old to come and now that he thought about it, Robin wasn't even sure he knew how to fight.

"No, I suppose not," Robin said, sadly- Thornton had always been with him, some of the excitement he felt at leaving for war faded.

"Well, someone had one and is sending him over right now," Thornton continued, not sensing Robin's mood or choosing to ignore it. "He should be here in one week- maybe one and a half."

"Oh," Robin said, forcing a smile. "That's good." Thornton nodded, looking pleased with himself and Robin was relieved to see him head back towards the house. Suddenly he put his bow down- he didn't really feel like practicing anymore. It had never really struck him that he had to leave Locksley before this moment. When the king asked him to go- he had simply agreed. He was a young, good fighter and it was his duty to go- wasn't it? He was abruptly nervous as he glanced around his village- he was the lord of this town, what if something happened to it? What if the people needed him? He quickly shook himself out of that line of thought- Marian's father was a more than decent sheriff- he could easily handle anything. And besides, what could possibly happen anyway?

But still, he didn't feel quite right as he slowly knocked another arrow on the string. Surprisingly, he felt a wave of homesickness- and he hadn't even left yet. He loved this village, he loved the people and friends he had in it. He stepped back and shook his head before pulling back the string- he had to stop thinking about this. He was going, the village would be fine, and he would come back. He was growing up- it was time to stop being homesick. He let the arrow fly, content that he was once again excited to leave for the war.

It wasn't until he walked over to pull the arrow out that he noticed for the first time in a long time, it hadn't hit dead center.

End Chapter 1.

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Remember- i love reviews!! 


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I wish...

Author's Note: Sorry this took so long! I actually finished it a few days ago and forgot to post it! (I know- I'm an idiot!!!) So here it is!

**Line of Trust**

**Chapter 2**

Much cautiously moved a few paces closer to the guards that were currently transporting him to Locksley to see if he could snag any more information. At first they had been cruel and vicious with him, but luckily as the week wore one, they must've gotten bored of their "beat up the servant" game or just tired from the trip. Either way, it allowed Much to get in a close enough range to hear a bit about what they were saying. It was through this manner that he had learned that his new master's name was Robin, he was also the Earl of someplace that Much hadn't quite caught, and now he learned that they would be there the next day.

He silently moved away from the pack of guards to sit down well away from them and eat the last of his food. They had thrown him some at the beginning of the journey and luckily he was smart enough to realize that that was all they planned on giving him, so he was able to carefully ration it out over the week. He chewed the stale bread, keeping one eye looking for guards who may want to take advantage of their last night with a live punching bag. Thankfully, they seemed content to talk amongst themselves and drink the last of their ale. Much glanced into the surrounding woods, and for the briefest moment had the thought that maybe he should try and escape after the other men fell asleep. He could just slip into the woods, run to a new town and-

That's where his train of thought stopped. Because, put simply, there was nothing for him to do. He didn't know how to make anything, he didn't have any money or food or anything. There was nowhere for him to go and nothing for him to be if he ran away, so he might as well stay. He tried to quell the nervousness that was starting to set in his stomach. It didn't make sense that he was nervous anyway- life was going to be exactly as it had before, no use being nervous about it. But, that didn't change the fact that he was. He almost wished that he could just stay traveling and never get there. It had actually been quite a nice week. His master, in an astonishing move, had let Much take his favorite mare as part of the gift for the noble, so at least he got to ride her one last week. Plus, the guards couldn't beat him up while traveling, so the large part of the day was spent with him riding happily in the back, listening to them talk. He had found some berries one night and picked them after the guards fell asleep, enjoying the taste of fresh juice in his mouth. In fact, he still had some saved, now that he remembered. He reached into his bag and popped the last few in his mouth. It really had been a very nice week.

Except now, it was over. And now Much had to return to serving someone and being punished and trying to find food. He almost wished they had gotten lost or something. He sighed- at least he had traveling to the Holy Land to look forward to, though that probably wouldn't be nearly as good as this. For one thing, his master would actually expect him to do stuff, like setup camp and cook and other things that servants were expected to do. And he probably wouldn't be riding his favorite mare, if he was riding a horse at all. And his food would probably have to last longer and of course, at the end of it he would be at a war. But still, the actual not being trapped in a stifling prison would be good enough.

It was always a good idea to not sleep until all the guards finally fell asleep, so Much stayed leaning against a tree, absentmindedly plucking grass with his fingers. The mare he was riding came over and he stroked her long nose, hoping that his new master would at least have some respect for animals as his old one did. This mare was the gentlest creature on earth, innocent and happy- he'd hate for her to be mistreated once they got there. He worried about her for a while, wondering if he would be able to do anything about it- steal grain for her or something, even while realizing he would never get the chance. Sighing softly, he simply continued to pat the horse that stood in front of him.

"You'll be fine," he said quietly to the horse, nodding. She looked up to stare him in the eye at the sound of his voice. He was fairly sure the guards couldn't hear him, and left to his own he had the terrible habit of talking out loud to himself- the only time he ever really said anything besides "Yes, master" or "No, master." He'd had enough painful lessons through the years to make himself try to stop it, but it was something that seemed to burst out of him. If he didn't talk freely at least every once and while, he would scream. So he simply kept it at a low mumble and saved it for when he was alone. "Promise, really. I mean, well- I suppose I shouldn't promise, since I won't be there- but I'm sure it will."

She reached up to playfully nudge him in the shoulder and he couldn't stop himself from flinching. His shoulder had gotten hit with a boot or a helmet a few nights ago and hadn't fully healed yet. The horse balked as well as if sensing she had hurt him and stood stiffly until he started talking again.

"It's fine, really," he said, and she slowly lowered her head again. "It's alright, you didn't-"

"Oy! Shut up!" called one of the guards and Much clamped his mouth shut- he hadn't realized they could hear him.

"I didn't thin' 'ervants were supposed ta talk," another said and Much held himself completely still, maybe if he didn't move they would forget about him.

"Me neither," the first agreed, starting to rise a little unsteadily. Luckily for Much, he tripped and the other guards laughed and handed him more ale, forgetting about the servant. His heart beating in his chest, Much stayed awake and watched the guards, not daring to say another word for the rest of the night.

* * *

'Don't go,' his own mind echoed Marian's words from earlier. He forced them out of his head- he was going. He had to go. It was his duty. He had to go fight for the king, fight for God- save the Holy Land. Why couldn't she understand that this was something he had to do? Why couldn't he stop thinking those infernal words that she had spoken, after the yelling, after the cursing, after the hatred- the words spoken as she slowly started to cry. He had to go- no matter when Marian said. Why couldn't she see that? He couldn't just stop himself because his betrothed asked him to.

But then again, Marian was always more than 'his betrothed' to him. He loved her, in a weird way he thought he always had. Oh, he had fought being officially engaged to her- he had yelled at his father and told him he wouldn't marry her. He knew she did the same to Edward- but in the end, maybe even in the beginning, he knew he was secretly happy with the arranged marriage. More than happy- he was overjoyed. She wasn't a dainty flower he had to walk on eggshells around, she was strong and confident. She would argue and roll her eyes, but in the end she would always smile. He had always been excited for when they got married- having the official engagement had been a happy sense of certainty. She had broken that arrangement today, she had flung the ring on the ground, she had yelled and slapped him. She wouldn't wish him luck, she wouldn't accept his excuses, she wouldn't wait for him.

He stormed into Locksley, intent on getting his bow and shooting it for a few hours. Why wouldn't she wait for him?! She acted as if he would be gone for ages, as if he would never come back, as if everything had to change. He was simply doing his duty and she refused to accept that. Suddenly he imagined coming back to find her married, married to someone else besides him! Angrily, he slapped the pole he was passing- God, he would give everything if she would just try to understand!

"Master!" a voice called and he continued past it without realizing it, caught up in the anger that was disguising the hurt and insecurity he felt. "Master!"

He turned abruptly to see Thornton waving him over. He obediently stopped and took a moment to wipe any anger off his face- he didn't need all of Locksley knowing that Marian had broken their engagement. He wanted to be well on the road before that shame came to be common knowledge.

"What is it?" he asked, trying not to be curt. From the way Thornton's face fell a little, he knew he had failed. He tried to focus more and forced a smile. Thornton was a good, faithful servant- even friend, but he never had been the best at reading people- Robin's strained half-smile caused him to lighten back up immediately.

"He's here," Thornton explained. "You're new manservant."

"Oh," Robin replied absentmindedly. "That's good."

"Well… aren't you going to meet him?" the older man asked.

"Yes," Robin answered, trying to force his thoughts away from Marian. "Of course." Thornton smiled happily and led the way into the main room of the Locksley Manner. Robin followed, not thinking at all about the man he was about to meet- he was still trying to figure out how best to get Marian to forgive him before he left for the Holy Land.

Robin wasn't sure what he expected his new servant to look like. He supposed he thought he would be an older man, an experienced fighter with a wry sense of humor- like the guards that had taught Robin how to fight. He had not expected a thin, almost sickly looking boy about his own age. The boy- well, man Robin supposed- they were the same age, was standing unnaturally still, eyes carefully focused on nothing, a faint bruise still fading from his cheekbone. Robin stopped walking and Thornton continued so he was standing in between the new master and servant.

For the briefest instant, the servant glanced up and Robin caught his eyes- but then before he had time to smile or move, the man was carefully looking towards the floor again. Suddenly Robin was intensely aware of how awkward this situation was. He had been served by servants all his life- but usually it was Thornton, who had known him so long he was practically not a servant at all, or it was the older guards who knew full well they had beaten him with a sword, and if pressed- could do it again. And of course there were the maids- the new ones tended to be nervous and shy, but a few days of his banter had them all treating him like they were his mother- something he secretly enjoyed. He had never had a servant his own age and sex before, but more importantly- he had never had a servant that looked at him with such a look of dead obedience, faintly tinted with fear.

His insides squirmed painfully as Thornton announced him as Master Robin and the boy bowed low- apparently he had no qualms about serving Robin as Robin did about being served by him. Seeing the servant bow and then stand up again seemed to make him look even skinnier, because as he rose it became clear that his clothing was hanging off nothing.

"And this is Much," Thornton said, and Robin realized abruptly he had been staring at the man's- Much's stomach and frowning, wondering how anyone was that thin. He looked up at Much, half-hoping to see Much smile or something. But the servant didn't move, merely stared at Robin for an instant before lowering his eyes once again. To make matters worse, Thornton fell silent and Robin was at a complete loss as to what to say. He had never thought of servant contracts before, they never really seemed to affect anything, but now he was acutely aware that Much had been someone else's servant before this. Did he have any say in this change at all? What did you say to someone you had practically bought?

"Er, um- hello," he said, shifting uncomfortably and desperately trying to think of something to say next. Thornton had already introduced him, and he couldn't say he was glad Much choose to work for him because he strongly suspected Much _didn't_ choose this.

"Welcome to Locksley," he said, surprising himself- but trying to smile in a disarming way anyway.

"Thank you, Master," Much replied softly, giving a shadow of a bow again. For some reason, Robin flinched as the title he held all his life came out of the man's lips. He didn't know why- people had called him 'Master,' since before he could remember. But usually it was more like a name than a title, when Much spoke it, it sounded hopeless and unnatural. It was spoken without thought and made Robin feel a mixture of spoiled and cruel. Much spoke the word because he had to, not because he wanted to, not because Robin had earned it.

Robin moved to shake the servant's hand, determining that a hand-shake was a gesture of friendship- maybe he could make that frightened look leave Much's face. He didn't notice Much flinch away from the movement, because at the same moment Much cringed, a voice came from the doorway.

"Robin?" It was her- it was Marian. He spun around so quickly he didn't really know how it happened.

"Marian," he said quietly, managing to ignore her cold look and the anger in her eyes. All he saw was her- she had come to him, they could make this better.

"I'll get Much settled then," Thornton said quickly and Robin nodded without turning. He saw Much and Thornton exit through the door to the servant's corner and tried to wave goodbye without turning from Marian.

"I just came to give you this," she announced coldly, glaring at him. She put something on the table and turned to walk away.

"Marian," he started and to his relief, she paused. "Please. I- I don't want to leave it like this."

"Then don't leave," she replied, turning only enough to throw the remark over her shoulder.

"I have to," Robin said desperately. "Please, Marian- I don't-" But she was already walking out of the door and into the town. Robin growled to himself, clenching his fist- he was _not_ going to chase after her. Sighing angrily, Robin headed to the table and saw what she had left. It was her ring. He snatched it from where it lay on the table, mocking him. Cursing loudly, he heaved it across the room where it bounced off the wall to lie there on the ground, all that was left of his marriage with Marian.

He turned to go find his bow so fast that he never noticed Much re-enter the room to get his bag, never heard Much's soft sigh of resignation, and never saw Much bend down to pick up the forgotten ring.

End Chapter 2

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Reviews make me smillllle! 


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I secretly own the whole thing... betcha didn't know that, did ya?

**Author's Note:** Terribly sorry this took so long- things got backed up. And then I false started three times before finally realizing that if Robin and Much didn't want to be written- there must be someone else who did... so I bring you...

**Line of Trust**

**Chapter 3**

Thornton chewed on his bottom lip as he watched the preparations for Robin's departure. He tried to go over the list of what Robin was supposed to be taking again- but his mind seemed to only repeat the first fours things- horses, clothes, food, blankets- over and over. He knew he had a list of close to twenty things- but couldn't remember any of them. Nervously strumming his fingers against the doorway, he wondered again if maybe Robin would somehow decide not to go. Maybe he would realize that there were enough people to fight here! Or decide that he didn't like the heat of the desert- or something.

He sighed and pushed these thoughts out of his head- his master was going. He had known it for months- now it was just finally happening and he was panicking. He had served Robin since the lad was two, he had watched him grow up and he was proud to say he had even managed to keep him in line after the old Master- Robin's father- died. But now Robin was leaving, off to the Holy Land- which was not only thousands of miles away, but also happened to be in the middle of a war. And he wouldn't be there to make sure he ate (Robin was always terrible about eating) or slept enough or… or didn't get stabbed! or killed! He wasn't even Robin's manservant anymore.

He took a breath and turned his gaze to Much- his replacement. He couldn't decide if he liked the lad. On one hand, Much seemed very respectful and obedient- qualities Thornton liked in Robin's servants. He was constantly having to remind the serving girls that Robin was a _noble_, no matter how much he smiled at them. If it was one thing Thornton liked- it was for everything to be in its proper place. Servants were below nobles and your master was above every other noble. It was a strict structure- even if Robin didn't seem to necessarily acknowledge it.

The one thing that Thornton could not find fault on- was Much's understanding of this structure. The lad clearly knew he was to serve Robin and would do it without question. Thornton also grudgingly admitted that Much knew what he was doing in terms of serving another man. There hadn't been much to do this past week, since Robin had been packing or shooting arrows- but the few times Robin did need Much to do something, the servant had been close at hand and obedient. He also certainly seemed well-trained to serve Robin on the road or in a war. For instance, at the moment- Much was carefully tacking up Robin's horse and Thornton noticed he gave most of the supplies to himself. He had to admit that Much seemed to be a very good servant.

But on the other hand, the lad seemed too skinny to protect Robin in battle. He had clearly asked for a manservant who could fight and the servant he got was about the same size as Robin- who had inherited his mother's small frame rather than his father's large one. How was Much supposed to help Robin fight if he looked barely strong enough to pick up a sword? And Thornton wasn't the only one who was thinking this. A few of Robin's guards- clearly worried about their master's protection had ordered Much to spar with them. Even the guards had doubts! Thornton admitted that Much had held his own very well and even seemed to be holding back a little. But still! He was too skinny and almost a tad too docile for a war. Thornton was sending his master off with a useless servant- it was going to be his fault when Robin was killed!

He groaned softly. This was a disaster. He didn't even know this Much fellow! Maybe the whole submissive thing was just an act! Maybe he would murder Robin in his sleep and steal the money or something. Maybe he should just go with Robin-

"Alright, Thornton?" The servant jumped as the man he had been worrying about strode up and clapped him on the back. Robin finished buckling something on his shirt and then moved to check his horse's tack, absentmindedly checking that the saddle was on right and other such things. Thornton nodded, wringing his hands together. Then he realized Robin couldn't see him and hastened to add,

"Yes! Yes, Master- I'm fine." Robin glanced up from where he was looking to smile at him.

"Good!"

"Are you sure you have everything, Master?" Thornton asked, taking a half-step forward to check the bags himself. What if he forgot blankets or… or food!

"Got the food right here," Robin announced, re-closing a bag.

"Blankets?" Robin frowned.

"Actually I don't see those…" he muttered, looking around for another bag.

"I have them, Master," Much supplied quietly. Robin flashed him a grin that was answered only with a slight bow.

"See, Thornton- we have everything!"

"Pots!" Thornton exclaimed- that was another thing they needed. "Do you have pots?"

"Thornton!" Robin said, laughing. "I'm sure we have everything. If not- we have enough money to buy some supplies."

Thornton frowned- Robin shouldn't say things like that in front of Much- it might give the man ideas.

"And," Robin continued. "We're only on our own for a few days- then we meet up with the rest of the nobles that are heading over there!"

"You do know where you're meeting right?" Thornton asked- it would just be like his master to run off after some deer and get completely lost.

"We'll be fine!" Robin insisted, rolling his eyes. "Won't we, Much?"

"Yes, Master," came the obedient answer. Thornton saw Robin's eyes cloud for a moment and a frown start to form as he glanced back at his servant. Thornton panicked- not even Robin liked his choice! Robin must've sensed his panic for he quickly looked back toward the old servant and smiled.

"Look, Thornton- we will be fine. I'll be back before you know it! Now," Robin said, gaining a somewhat more serious tone and pulling out papers. "You're in charge of the manner while I'm gone. Everyone is to stay employed unless they wish to quit, in which case just terminate their contract immediately. Since I'm gone, if people want to take a second job that's fine. Anyone wants to marry, they should see the sheriff unless someone else takes over my estate. But I don't think that's likely- Edward wouldn't do that. Anything breaks- just ask Dan Scarlett to fix it. Um… crops are to be sold at standard prices- oh you know, all the usual."

Thornton struggled to remember everything Robin said. He had forgotten how much it took to manage an estate since Robin took over when he was 15. Robin handed him a pack of papers.

"Look, I've written it all down here- along with my official seal in case you need any money from the store. You'll do fine."

Thornton carefully held the paper in his left hand and then abruptly it was time for Robin to leave. Suddenly the moment that he had been preparing for was actually happening.

"Mount up, Much," Robin called over his shoulder. Thornton shifted. There was nothing more to ask- Robin had as much as he was ever going to have. He couldn't go with him anymore.

"Well, then, Master," Thornton started, unsure of what to do. Would a handshake be going too far for a servant? Deciding that Robin probably wouldn't mind, he hesitantly held out a hand. Robin looked down and frowned at it and he hastily took it back- how inappropriate that had been!

"Sorry," he said, embarrassed and then suddenly Robin was hugging him. He stiffened at first and then for the first time since Robin was four and had fallen and hurt his ankle, he hugged his master back.

"Bye Thornton," Robin said and the old servant felt tears spring to his eyes.

"Goodbye Robin," he said, forgetting to say 'master' for the first time in his life. The younger man pulled away first and grinned- perhaps not even noticing the use of his first name.

"I'll be back before you know it," Robin repeated, grabbing his bow and slinging it across his back. Robin glanced up at the house, smiling to see all the maids at the windows.

"Bye, gals!" he called and there were tearful farewells in response. Robin mounted his own horse and Thornton saw him glance around, as if looking for someone else. He sighed and then grinned at Much.

Then suddenly he was gone before Thornton could remind him to be careful.

* * *

Robin smiled and waved as they rode slowly through Locksley, silently amazed at how many people lined up to see him off. He waved back as even Dan Scarlett's quiet, serious son, Will, lifted a hand with a small smile. Riding past the number of people who he had known for so long made him realize how much he was going to miss this place. Of course, there was one person who wasn't there but he tried to avoid glancing around for Marian- she wasn't going to be there. If she had decided to see him off, she would have been at his house. She wasn't going to see him. The disappointment of this threatened to cause the smile to fall from his face, but he forced himself not to think about it.

Marian had remained something of a mystery in his last week. Her white hot rage seemed to have departed; she even came to see him when he sent Much to get her. But her visit had been short, impersonal and painfully proper. It was if they were never friends, never more than friends, never once happily engaged. She acted, and forced him to act, as proper nobles visiting one another- full of useless words like "pleasant" and "pleasing." Were there any worse words in the country? He was inclined at the moment to think that those two were the worst. They didn't insult, they didn't compliment, they were simply meaningless wasted breath.

"How pleasant of you to invite me, Lord Robin," he muttered under his breath as they entered the sanctuary of the woods. "Yes, this visit has been most pleasing." He growled angrily. Since when did she call him "Lord Robin" anyway? He took a breath and tried to put Marian out of his mind. By the time he got back, she would have forgiven him and things could go back to normal.

Pushing away thoughts of Marian caused him to think about his other worry- one that he might have to deal with a good deal sooner than Marian. He frowned slightly- glancing behind and to his left where Much was riding quietly. Robin just didn't know what to do about his new servant. The man seemed constantly wary around him, meek and obedient to the point of jumpy. Robin shamefacedly admitted to himself that he hadn't spent that much time with the man in the last week, busy getting ready, trying to talk to Marian and relaxing in his last few days. But still- he didn't think he had done anything that deserved this kind of fear from his servant. Any attempt to include Much in any kind of joke or even conversation was carefully avoided with polite responses and bowing from the younger man. Robin didn't know what to do about it.

He sighed- he had thought about offering to end Much's contract, but Thornton was right in that he did need a servant who could fight and there was too little time to find another. Besides, he surely wasn't _that_ bad a master and he had only known Much for only a week. Maybe the man would lighten up after a while. He threw another glance backwards- or at least gain some weight.

Nodding to himself, he decided that if all he achieved was that Much at least looked healthier then that would be enough. He kicked his horse into canter, and heard Much match his pace behind him. He thought of fighting for his king and country and tried to ignore the part of him that suggested he might get lonely.

**End Chapter 3.**

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As always- reviews are pampered and photographed. A big thank you to anyone who managed to remember this story existed after that wait!


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